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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28688538">Restless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaMandCheezIts/pseuds/HaMandCheezIts'>HaMandCheezIts</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Abuse and Aftermath [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Back to the Future (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Arguing, Consensual Underage Sex, Crying, Doctor/Patient, Doctors &amp; Physicians, Eating Disorders, Family Drama, Family Issues, Flashbacks, Gen, Hallucinations, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Injury, Kissing, Lone Pine Timeline (Back to the Future), M/M, Mammett, May/December Relationship, Medication, Mother-Son Relationship, Movie: Back to the Future Part II, Panic, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Older Brothers, Protective Siblings, Psychologists &amp; Psychiatrists, References to Drugs, Scars, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Therapy, Underage Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:21:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28688538</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaMandCheezIts/pseuds/HaMandCheezIts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In "Introductory Remarks," Marty and Lorraine speak to Dr. Lang about Marty's post-Bedford life, and how he's (not) coping. This fic is set previous to "Remarks"; it starts with Lorraine and Marty's return home after Marty's most recent ER visit. </p><p>  <em>Emmett cleared his throat and shifted slightly, causing Marty to again look up. "What?"</em></p><p>  <em>"Oh, nothing, nothing."</em></p><p>  <em>"Bull, Doc." Marty sat up. "I know you too well. You have something to say. What is it?"</em></p><p>  <em>Emmett tipped his head back, staring up at the ceiling for several moments. When he turned back to Marty, his face was solemn. "Marty, when I told your mother about our relationship, I was prepared for her to demand that we no longer see each other, in any capacity. In fact, I was expecting it."</em></p><p>  <em>Marty was initially stunned. And then he got angry. "You told her on purpose. So if we had to be apart until I was eighteen - or forever - I would be pissed at my mom, and not you."</em></p><p>  <em>"Of course I didn't want you upset with me! When I recommended that you and I take some time apart, you were so distraught you tried to kill yourself!"</em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dave McFly &amp; Linda McFly, Dave McFly &amp; Linda McFly &amp; Marty McFly, Dave McFly &amp; Marty McFly, Emmett "Doc" Brown &amp; Lorraine Baines McFly, Emmett "Doc" Brown/Marty McFly, Linda McFly &amp; Marty McFly, Lorraine Baines McFly &amp; Marty McFly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Abuse and Aftermath [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098932</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Restless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As I said in the summary, this story actually precedes "Introductory Remarks"; several events occur that are referenced in "Remarks." This fic also skips back and forth in time.</p><p>I may re-order this series at some point to make these stories flow in order. That also depends on how far I take this series. </p><p>-ck</p><p><strong>Disclaimer:</strong> I do not own <em>Back to the Future,</em> Doctor Emmett L. Brown, Marty McFly, any of the McFly family members, or any other related characters (except for my original characters).</p><p>I am writing for fun and feedback, not for profit.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Thursday, October 31st, 1985</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>7:32 A.M.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Hill Valley, California</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>An exhausted Lorraine McFly unlocked her front door, then stepped aside, gesturing for an equally exhausted Marty McFly to precede her into the house.</p><p>Once mother and son were inside, Lorraine tightly closed the door, relocking it. When she turned, she saw Marty was staring fixedly at the door.</p><p>"Marty? Sweetie?"</p><p>Marty blinked, then shifted his gaze and regarded his mother. "Who are you locking out, Ma? Early trick-or-treaters?"</p><p>Lorraine sighed, but didn't answer. Instead she hung her purse up near the door, then stepped into the kitchen. "Do you want some eggs, or maybe French toast? I'd imagine you’re starving." She looked back at her pale, somewhat disheveled son. "Or I guess cereal might be better."</p><p>"I'm not hungry, Mom." Marty bypassed the kitchen and dining area, going to sit at the piano. He carefully lifted the fallboard, then ran his hands over the smooth keys. The piano, an elegant white instrument, was a much better model than the tired old brown piano he vaguely remembered from his pre-time travel timeline. He and his siblings had all taken piano lessons as kids, encouraged by their Grandma Sylvia. Marty had been the only one who'd shown an aptitude for music, but he hadn't been satisfied with the piano. He had requested to learn another instrument - one played by the rock musicians he and Dave revered. His earnestness had been rewarded by the gift of an acoustic guitar on his eighth birthday. Marty recalled those events pretty much identically in both timelines, except that in the reality where his parents weren't as well off, Sylvia had gifted him that first guitar.</p><p>Marty wiggled his fingers, then tested their dexterity by plinking out a few stilted notes of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy.” The sudden slam of a cupboard in the kitchen caused him to jerk, and he abruptly stopped his experimental playing. Marty turned to see his mother bracing herself against the counter of the breakfast nook, her head lowered. </p><p>"Mom?"</p><p>Lorraine lifted her head. "You need to stop this, Marty!" Her face was severe. "I know you haven't been eating enough, probably even before you were at Bedford."</p><p>Marty neglected to confirm that Lorraine's guess was pretty close to the mark. "Mom, I just still feel like crap, is all. I don't know if I could keep anything down."</p><p>Lorraine's expression softened. "Of course, honey." She came over to her son, then reached a hand down to stroke his face, cupping his chin. "I'm sorry." </p><p>Marty looked up at her with a watery smile. "Maybe when Linda comes out I'll have some toast." Linda's first class at HVCC started at 8:20, and she and Marty often ate breakfast together; Dave usually ate earlier, as he needed to be at the office by 7:30 on weekdays.</p><p>Lorraine backed away, dropping her eyes nervously. “Ah, your sister, she's. . . “</p><p>Marty, who had jettisoned his watch when he’d cut his wrists (and couldn't comfortably wear it anyway even if he knew where it was), twisted to look at the wall clock. “Knowing Lin, she’s probably in the bathroom working on her make-up right now."</p><p>"Linda's not here, Marty,” Lorraine said quietly. “She stayed at Uncle Milton's last night. We dropped her off before we came to meet you in the emergency room."</p><p>Marty was silent for a moment, honestly confused. As opposed to the last time he'd been taken to the emergency room by ambulance, Doc and Dave had been allowed in the exam area along with his mother. In fact, Doc had been almost more invested in his comfort than Lorraine, first by talking Marty through his panicked hallucinations, and then by acting as the de facto go-between for Marty and the doctors. Marty had eventually become aware of Linda's absence, but had deduced she'd stayed at home. "Why - why is she over there?" he asked.</p><p>Lorraine sat next to Marty on the piano bench. "Well, Milton knows what's going on with your father, so it made more sense for her to go there, instead of to Aunt Sally's - “</p><p>"No, Ma, I mean why isn't she <em>here?"</em> Marty said, irritated with his mother's avoidance.</p><p>Marty. . . Honey. . . Linda is just . . . a little shaken up by everything. She needed some time away, is all.”</p><p>Marty blinked a few times, unable to immediately process the information. He felt Lorraine take his hand, and he tried to squeeze back, as much as his limited grasp would allow. He inhaled deeply, then let out a shuddering sigh.</p><p>“She’s scared. I scared her.”</p><p>“Marty, no. . .”</p><p>“She found me first after I cut my wrists. And last night, she saw me. . . “ He closed his eyes, struggling to remember. In between the initial panic attack and the later medication reaction, he couldn’t exactly place where Linda and Dave might have been, at what point.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>11 Hours Earlier. . . </em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Emmett had been holding Marty for several minutes, letting the younger man rest securely against him, when he suddenly realized Marty was sagging in his embrace. He lowered his head and glanced at Marty’s face; the teen’s eyes were closed and his expression had gone slack.</p><p>“Marty?”</p><p>"Mmm?"</p><p>Emmett smiled, then shook the younger man gently. "<em>Marty</em>."</p><p>Gradually, Marty became aware of his surroundings. "Doc. Wha- What?"</p><p>Emmett stepped back a bit, but still kept Marty in a loose embrace. "You're asleep on your feet, here. I think you need to go to bed."</p><p>"Doc," Marty groaned, "it's only like 8:30 - "</p><p>Doc peered at a wristwatch. "8:41."</p><p>"Thanks, Doc," Marty said dryly. "Anyway, it's early. We didn't even have ‘lights out’ until ten at Bedford - "</p><p>"I was under the impression you were sent to your rooms at nine."</p><p>"Well, yeah, but we didn't have to. . ." Marty pulled out of Emmett's arms, and squinted suspiciously at the older man. "How did you know that?"</p><p>"Your mother. We spoke quite a bit the last few days."</p><p>"Yeah. I heard." Marty moved to sit on the sofa, tossing some pillows aside and then shrugging out of his jacket. “Mom pulled over at a McDonald's in Grass Valley and interrogated me."</p><p>Emmett bent to pile up the discarded pillows, then took Marty’s jacket and set it atop the pile. "I thought as much. Your mother was rather . . . rattled by my candidness about our relationship. But I felt it was important to tell her, especially with Linda and Dave knowing. And then there was your extreme reaction to my suggestion that we pause our physical inter - "</p><p>"That's not all you wanted us to 'pause,' Doc. You didn't think I should see you at all."</p><p>"Temporarily, Marty." Emmett seated himself next to the teen.</p><p>"Well, it ended up being three days." Marty snuggled contentedly against the older man. "And now that Mom knows, that's all it needs to be. I don't think you have to worry about me not being with my family, since it looks like they're going to be escorting me to your place or making you do 'supervised visitations' here." He briefly glanced up. "Did she tell you about that?"</p><p>Emmett nodded. "She did. And considering your age and the nature of our relationship, I think she's letting us off easy."</p><p>Marty scoffed. "If you hadn't told her about us, we wouldn't have to jump through hoops just to see each other." He sighed. "But I guess that's what I get for being with a noble guy like you."</p><p>Emmett cleared his throat and shifted slightly, causing Marty to again look up. "What?"</p><p>"Oh, nothing, nothing."</p><p>"Bull, Doc." Marty sat up. "I know you too well. You have something to say. What is it?"</p><p>Emmett tipped his head back, staring up at the ceiling for several moments. When he turned back to Marty, his face was solemn.</p><p>"Marty, when I told your mother about our relationship, I was prepared for her to demand that we no longer see each other, in any capacity. In fact, I was expecting it."</p><p>Marty was initially stunned. And then he got angry.</p><p>"You told her on purpose. So if we had to be apart until I was eighteen - or forever - I would be pissed at my mom, and not you."</p><p>"Of course I didn't want you upset with me! When I recommended that you and I take some time apart, you were so distraught you tried to kill yourself!"</p><p>"That's not what happened, Doc," Marty said firmly.</p><p>"Oh, no?" Doc took Marty's hands in his own, and turning them over gently, he studied the sutured wrists. "Do you realize what might have happened if Linda hadn't found you when she did?" </p><p>"I wouldn't have bled out or anything, Doc. I didn't cut deep enough. I even remember you saying that." Marty pulled his hands away. "And I didn't do it because of you, of what you said. Not directly. I did it because of my dad, because I was feeling hopeless and worthless. Yeah, you wanting to take a break didn't help things, but if I wasn't screwed up by my dad's abuse, I would've been able to get a better handle on everything else."</p><p>"I should've seen how you were feeling," Emmett said gravely. "I should have been listening closer, and realized what you meant when you said you wanted a way out. . ." He shook his head then, and looked sternly at Marty. "And as for what could've happened to you if Linda hadn't found you. . . You would've fainted from the rapid blood loss - you <em>did</em> faint, briefly - and with no one to stop the bleeding before it ceased on its own, you may have lost enough blood to need a transfusion. And can you tell me that you wouldn't have done anything else, anything <em>worse</em>, if you hadn't been found? That you wouldn't have injured yourself further?"</p><p>Marty sighed, shrugged, and smiled grimly. "I really don't know."</p><p> </p><p>As their conversation had continued, Emmett had seen that Marty’s eyes were again drooping, even as much as he tried to convey otherwise. After Marty’s unsettling statement, the older man abruptly stood, then held out a hand to the teen. “Bed. Now.”</p><p>Marty grinned cheekily. “Guess you really did miss me, huh, Doc?”</p><p>“Marty. That’s inappropriate,” Emmett hissed, looking around furtively.</p><p>Marty took Emmett’s hand, and rising from the couch, he copied the scientist’s secretive glances. “Whadaya see, Doc?” he asked teasingly. “Anyone watching?” When Emmett turned back to respond, Marty pushed himself up on tip-toe and kissed the older man boldly on the mouth.</p><p>For a moment Doc enjoyed the kiss, but then he quickly pushed Marty away. “Marty! When your mother said you could see me here, I don’t think she meant in this manner.”</p><p>“Well, why else would she allow it?” Marty asked reasonably. “She knows we’re a couple. And since your place isn’t exactly private, if my mom or Dave or someone is there with us, we won’t be able to do anything . . . fun. This is our best option.” He gestured around the house. “Nobody’s out here. They’re all in their rooms.”</p><p>“But they could come out at any moment,” Emmett argued. “This is a communal space – “</p><p>“So let’s go to my room.” Marty started down the hallway. “I’m not letting you go home yet, Doc. I’ve only seen you for maybe fifteen minutes.”</p><p>Emmett followed quickly behind Marty, putting a restraining hand on his arm. “Marty. I don’t want to get your mother cross with us on your first night back.” As they had paused outside Lorraine’s bedroom, Emmett kept his voice to a whisper. “This isn’t a good idea.”</p><p>“You don’t have to whisper, Doc – I don’t think my mom’s going to hear you.” Marty tipped his head toward the master bedroom. “Hear that? It sounds like she’s in the shower.”</p><p>Emmett listened for a moment, then acknowledged the noise Marty had heard. “Even so, she’s not the only one in this house. . .”</p><p>Marty sighed in exasperation. “I’m only talking about making out, Doc.”</p><p>Emmett smiled. “Just kissing? I doubt that.“</p><p>Marty grinned back. “Well, maybe a little heavy petting.” He took the hand that Doc had rested on his arm, and pulled him the few steps to his room. Both the scientist and the teen were laughing softly and giddily as Marty opened his bedroom door.</p><p>And froze.</p><p>Emmett nearly collided with the teen’s suddenly rigid body. Not understanding Marty’s reaction, he looked around the younger man and into the room, thinking someone was inside. Only seeing an empty, unusually orderly room, Doc gave a short laugh. “That’s right. Your siblings cleaned your room. I’m sure it looks diff – “</p><p>“Blood,” Marty moaned.</p><p>Emmett looked closer, studying the floor. The bloodstained carpet had been removed, and the floor had been scoured thoroughly; even if there had been any amount of stain left on the floor, it had been covered by an area rug. There was no indication that anything untoward had happened in the room.</p><p>“There’s no blood, Marty.”</p><p>Marty abruptly backed up, this time running into Emmett and pressing him against the opposite wall. “So much – so much blood.” The teen didn’t seem to realize Emmett was nearby; he was looking down at his wrists, transfixed. “I’m bleeding. I’m bleeding,” he said, his voice monotone.</p><p>Emmett quickly turned Marty around, grasping his shoulders. He jostled him, but Marty barely responded. “Marty!” Emmett said loudly. “Marty, you’re imagining things. <em>Marty!”</em>  The younger man’s face was blank, his eyes unfocused. It eerily reminded Emmett of how Marty had looked when he’d been sitting on the floor of his room, his wrists slit open and dripping blood.</p><p>“I can’t. . . I didn’t. . . Help - stop - it,” Marty murmured weakly. He suddenly slumped to the floor bonelessly. Not expecting the teen to fall, Emmett was unable to stop him in time. Instead the scientist dropped to the floor next to him. “Marty! Marty, stop this! Wake up!” He again grabbed Marty by his shoulders, shaking him harder this time.</p><p>Which was a mistake.</p><p>With alarming speed and ferocity, Marty knocked Emmett’s hands off his shoulders, and then brought up a fist and slammed Emmett in the side of the head. Even with Marty’s hands not working as adeptly as normal, the blow made Emmett’s ears ring.</p><p>“Get off me!” Marty screamed, and then began to strike out at Doc randomly, slapping him in the face, punching at his midsection, and pulling at his hair. “Don’t touch me!”</p><p>Doc was concentrating so hard on blocking Marty’s wild punches without injuring the teen that he never heard David and Linda’s doors open. He didn’t notice the two were standing and staring in horror at Marty’s delirious panic until he heard Dave say, “What the <em>hell</em>, Doc!”</p><p>Emmett was attempting to wrestle Marty into submission, but the seventeen-year-old was frenzied. “Get your mother!” Doc gasped out at the two bystanders.</p><p>Neither sibling moved. Linda watched with wide eyes while Dave again cursed loudly. Doc turned to repeat his request, and while he was distracted, Marty slugged him in the face.</p><p>“Damn, Marty, stop it!” Dave knelt on the floor and immediately wrapped his arms around his brother, who tried to buck the taller boy off. When that failed, Marty raked his fingernails down Dave’s arms, causing the older brother to gasp in pain. “Linda – go get Mom!” Dave demanded.</p><p>Linda ran to the master bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>When Lorraine came rushing into the hallway a few minutes later, wrapped in a robe and dripping, Dave was still embracing his brother from behind. Marty was struggling to break free, breathing erratically and occasionally coughing out sobs. Emmett was seated nearby on the floor, one hand gingerly rubbing his jaw.</p><p>Linda didn’t come back into the hallway. After running to Lorraine’s room, pounding on the bathroom door, and then telling her mother that Marty was in the middle of some kind of violent fit, the young woman had gone outside. Linda had sat on the front stoop, put her head in her hands, and quietly cried. It was almost a half hour before she felt composed enough to re-enter the house. When Linda did come back inside, she found that Marty was sitting subdued on the living room couch, with Emmett and Lorraine flanking him.</p><p>“Is he okay?” Linda asked, unnerved by her brother’s sudden 180-degree turn in mood.</p><p>Lorraine looked up, forcing a smile. “He should be. I gave him one of the pills from the psychiatrist at Bedford. They’re supposed to help with panic attacks.”</p><p>“I’m not entirely sure that was just panic,” Emmett said softly, as if he didn’t want Marty to hear. “I think he may have had a flashback. He was about to enter his room when everything started – he became unresponsive, and he said he could see blood.”</p><p>“’s no blood,” Marty said in a slow, hoarse voice. Lorraine put an arm gently around his shoulders. “No. No, honey. No blood.”</p><p>Dave was sitting in a chair near the sofa, and Linda came over to sit on the arm of the chair. “Where were you?” Dave murmured.</p><p>“Outside.” Linda watched her younger brother, who suddenly seemed fascinated with his hands. “What did Mom give him?”</p><p>“Valium. It just kicked in a few minutes ago.” Dave shrugged. “He’s calmer – a little spaced out, but Doc says sometimes Valium can do that.” He glanced at his sister again. “He’s gonna be okay, Lin.”</p><p>Linda nodded. “I know,” she lied.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>Thursday, October 31st, 1985</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>7:43 A.M.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Marty had been staring off into space for almost a minute, mentally paging through his relatively few intact memories of his panic attack and following medical issues. Lorraine set a hand on his shoulder. "Marty, honey?" she said anxiously. "Are you all right?"</p><p>He blinked, coming back to the moment as if from far away, and picked up the conversation where they had left off. "When is she coming home?"</p><p>"Home?" Lorraine asked, confused. "Oh, your sister!" She laughed self-deprecatingly. "She should be home after her morning class tomorrow - the social worker wants to talk to all of us. Dave is taking a half-day off work so he can be here."</p><p>"Social worker," Marty repeated. "When - when did - I don't remember you saying anything about that."</p><p>Lorraine looked cautiously at her son. "I told you Tuesday evening when you called from Bedford," she said. "The social worker is coming here at one o’clock tomorrow." </p><p>"Oh. Oh, yeah," Marty said slowly. "I remember now." He didn't, but his mother's concern was frankly suffocating him, and he didn't want to give her any more ammunition. </p><p>“I can call her, let her know what happened last night, and that maybe tomorrow is too soon. . . “ Lorraine offered haltingly.</p><p>“No, not if Dave’s already taking off and all. Tomor – “ he yawned, then tried again. “Tomorrow will work.”</p><p>"Oh, honey, you must be so exhausted you can't see straight." Lorraine again touched Marty's face lovingly. <em>So much for stifling her concern,</em> he thought. "Why don't you go take a nap?" </p><p>A rush of panic hit Marty's bloodstream. Fighting it off, he tried to answer steadily. "Uh, I think I'd like to take a shower first."</p><p>"Of course," Lorraine stood up. "And after that I can make you something to eat."</p><p>"Sure, Ma," he answered unenthusiastically. Rising from the piano bench, he headed toward the bathroom he shared with his siblings . . . and then hesitated.</p><p>"Uh, Mom?"</p><p>"Yes, sweetie?"</p><p>Marty winced at the saccharine sweetness, then forged ahead. "Can you get me some clean clothes from my room? I - I don't want to go in there."</p><p>Lorraine first looked surprised, then sad, then grudgingly accepting. Moving purposefully down the hall, she passed her reluctant son and entered Marty's room without pause. He stood back far enough so that he couldn't see in the doorway, and swallowed down the bile suddenly churning up from his gut.</p><p>He wondered if he'd ever be able to go in his room again.</p><p> </p><p>Marty spent as long as possible in the shower, standing under the spray with his head down, staring at the water circling the drain. Lorraine had been right - he was exhausted, physically and mentally. With nothing to distract him, his thoughts inevitably went back to this last emergency room visit, and how he had felt almost as much shame as he had during the visit caused by his suicide attempt. Once the extreme reactions from the Valium had been attended to and he'd begun to emerge from the swirling eddy of his hallucinations and fear, he'd realized what he'd done to Doc and Dave while in the throes of his panic attack (or flashback, as Doc had called it). Both his partner and his brother had been quick to forgive his behavior and reassure Marty that they were fine, but that didn't remove the bruise from Doc's chin, or the scratches from Dave's arms. When Marty had finally dozed off, both men had left the ER - Dave had wanted to get a few hours’ sleep before work, and Doc had needed to get home to Einstein. When Marty had awoken and found the two were gone, he couldn't help but think they’d left to get away from him. </p><p>There was a loud rapping on the bathroom door. "Marty!" his mother called, her voice loudly insistent. "Are you okay? Answer me!"</p><p>He depressed the shower diverter knob, turning off the spray. "I'm fine, Mom, I'll be out in a minute!" But he soon found he couldn’t turn the water off. He'd had trouble turning the hot and cold spigots on, actually needing both hands to twist each tap, and now both his hands and the taps were wet. Grabbing the towel he'd set out before his shower, he awkwardly clutched it and attempted to better grip the spigots. He was able to turn the taps a hair further, but the water continued to run. Marty swore in frustration. <em>They redid or remodeled the whole house in this timeline, and they couldn't put better water fixtures in the shower? Jeez, even <strong>my</strong> room has minor improvements!</em></p><p>Lorraine was again knocking. "Marty? What was that?" The doorknob rattled.</p><p>"Jesus Christ, Mom!" Quickly wrapping the towel around his waist, he went to the door, unlocked it, and stuck his head out. "I'm fine! I just can't get the water to turn off." </p><p>Lorraine crossed her arms defensively. "That language is not necessary, young man."</p><p>"Sorry," he muttered, then nodded his dripping head at the bathtub. "Can you. . ."</p><p>Lorraine came into the small room; Marty stepped back to let her pass. She reached into the tub/shower and turned off the taps with a few quick twists. Turning to leave the bathroom, her gaze rested on her son, naked from the waist up, and her eyes immediately widened. "Oh, baby, your weight - " </p><p>Marty groaned inwardly. Even before his young mother's infatuation with him in 1955, Marty hadn't been thrilled with Lorraine viewing him in any type of undress. He'd been able to keep Lorraine from seeing him unclothed in the emergency room and at Bedford - both times in the ER he'd been in a gown before she'd arrived, and he'd made sure to change into his clothes in a bathroom at both hospitals. But there was no hiding it now. He ducked his head, backing away from her reach. "Mom, please. . ."</p><p>Lorraine took a deep breath. "We'll talk about this later. Just get dressed. Someone is here to see you." She left the bathroom, not completely closing the door. Marty was quick to shut it, and press the button in to engage the lock. </p><p>He turned to the mirror, wiping a hand over it to disperse some of the fog from the hot water steam. He gazed at his reflection. His face was pale and way too haggard for someone who was only seventeen. There were fresh bruises in the crooks of each arm, from where the ER had drawn blood and from a saline IV he’d been given. He'd washed off the sticky bandage residue in the shower, but he couldn't do anything about the bruises.</p><p>And then there was what his mother had seen. His collarbones stuck out noticeably, and his ribs were apparent as well. Had he looked so . . . scrawny before? Sure, after he'd lost his baby fat, he'd been naturally thin. Being always on the move and having a high metabolism, added with an aversion to anything over-sweet, had led to that. Still, this was a little disconcerting. He thought of Doc, who was someone who regularly saw him naked (Jennifer hadn't seen him partially dressed since the summer). Shouldn't Doc have noticed, or mentioned his weight loss? Or, had he been this thin the whole time he'd been seeing Doc? They'd only been together for two months. </p><p>Marty decided that was more likely. Doc was thin as well, which was made more obvious by his height, and gangly arms and legs. Marty affectionately called him a beanpole. But as their slim builds often worked in their favor in bed, neither complained. Certain positions and moves would probably not be as doable, or enjoyable, if not for their slender body types.</p><p>"Marty!"</p><p>Marty dropped his eyes from the mirror, and began to towel off. "I'm coming!" he hollered.</p><p>After he was mostly dry (his hair was still damp) and in fresh clothes, Marty left the bathroom. He went quickly down the hallway and into the living area - where he saw Doc sitting at the dining room table with his mother, both drinking cups of tea.</p><p> </p><p>Doc turned at Marty's approach, smiling brightly. The bruise on his chin had become more pronounced, and Marty slowed, his gaze centering in the injury. "Oh, Doc. . ."</p><p>Emmett rose, going to Marty. "Don't be concerned with that," he said. "You weren't yourself, and I know you'd never knowingly hurt me." He caressed Marty’s face. "How are you? I didn't want to leave the hospital without saying goodbye to you, but Einie has been very needy, especially since you've been away." </p><p>"Did you bring him?" Marty asked hopefully. "Linda's not here, she's the only one who's allergic."</p><p>"I'm afraid I haven't - I wasn't sure if you'd be in any condition to visit." He placed his hands on Marty's shoulders. "You haven't told me yet how you're feeling. Your mother said you're still averse to entering your room."</p><p>Lorraine had been cleaning up the tea settings; feeling Marty’s eyes on her, she paused and looked frankly at her son. "What? It's true," she said. She turned to Doc. "He needs to rest, and he can't even lie down."</p><p>"Who says I need to lie down in bed?" Marty shot back. "We've got two perfectly fine couches out here."</p><p>Lorraine placed the teapot down harder than necessary, “So you’re just never going to go in your room?” She glanced up at the wall clock. “I wonder if it’s too early to call that Dr. Lang,” she murmured.</p><p>Even though Lorraine’s voice was soft, Marty heard the statement, and understood it. "Yeah, sure, just send me to a new shrink so he can put me on some different pills that’ll make me flip out.” He glowered at his mother, wounded and angry. “I’m beginning to miss the emergency room. I just <em>love</em> getting needles stuck in me.”</p><p>“Just because that happened with the Valium doesn’t mean you can’t try a different medication – “</p><p>“Why do I need to be on anything?”</p><p>Lorraine looked imploringly at her son. “I know you’ve been emotionally affected by your father’s abuse. Dr. Vincent recognized it –  Do you think you would’ve had that panic attack at Bedford, or last night, if you were on the right anxiety medication?”  Marty tried to sputter a reply, but Lorraine pressed on. “Do you think you would have tried to kill yourself?”  </p><p>This time Marty wasn’t even able to attempt a response. His breathing became uneven, and he took a step back, unintentionally bumping into Emmett. The scientist put a steadying hand on Marty’s arm, then addressed Lorraine.</p><p>“I don’t think this is the best time to discuss this, with both of you overtired and tense,” he said firmly. “I suggest you both get some rest before revisiting this subject.” He adjusted his grasp on Marty, now putting a guiding hand around the teen’s shoulders. "Let's go sit down." </p><p>“Emmett – “ Lorraine started, causing the scientist to stop and gaze expectantly at her. But then she nodded resignedly. “You’re right. I – I think I’ll go lie down.” She regarded Emmett and Marty worriedly. “Will you two be all right?”</p><p>“Go lie down, Ma,” Marty said quietly. “I’ll be fine.”</p><p>As Lorraine headed down the hall toward the bedrooms, Emmett guided Marty to the couch in the living room. "I don't need to be babied," Marty muttered, even as Doc gently pushed him to sit on the cushions. "I'm okay. No more hallucinations, no panic attacks."</p><p>Emmett sat next to the teen. "I'm glad. But you do look exhausted." </p><p>“Yeah. Last night was – “ Marty snorted lightly. “I’m beat.” He fidgeted on the couch, rolling his shoulders. “But I am overtired, like you said. Even after my shower I still feel stressed. I don’t think I could fall asleep if I tried.”</p><p>“Hmm.” Doc glanced in direction Lorraine had gone. He looked back to Marty. “Lie down,” he directed.</p><p>Marty gave Doc a sidelong glance. “Huh?”</p><p>Emmett slid down on the couch, then eased Marty down so the younger man’s head was in his lap. “Uh, Doc?“ Marty said. “Last night you said this was a ‘communal space.’”</p><p>“Hush,” Emmett said. “You’re just resting, there’s nothing wrong with that.” He began to run a hand over Marty’s arm, rubbing it gently. Marty sighed, closing his eyes. “Doc, you’re gonna – You know what that does to me, when you do that.“ He sighed again, a deep, long exhale.</p><p>“I’m counting on it,” Doc replied, continuing to stroke Marty’s arm from bicep to wrist, taking care to avoid the stitches. He felt the tension in Marty’s body begin to subside.</p><p>“Doc. . . “ Marty shifted, turning into a more comfortable position. He hadn’t felt this safe in days. “Doc, I’m sorry . . .  for everything. . . “</p><p>“Shh.” The older man dropped a kiss on Mary’s temple, then slowly ran his hand through the teen’s hair. “Don’t worry about any of that.”</p><p>“But – but I – “ Marty snuggled in, feeling a calmness overwhelm him. “God, that’s so . . .  nice.”</p><p>“It’s supposed to be,” Doc said wryly. Returning his hand to Marty’s arm, he resumed the soft stroking. “Just rest,” he whispered.</p><p>There was another lethargic protest from Marty, an intelligible groan. And then his body went limp, as his breathing became deep and slow.</p><p>Emmett smiled, and leaning his head back against the couch, he closed his eyes as well.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>END</em> </strong>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If I continue this series with other random vignettes, some ideas are:</p><p>1) Jennifer's first (post-suicide attempt) interaction with Marty, when she drops off his homework, and her reaction and suspicions.</p><p>2) Marty and Emmett getting it on in Emmett's garage (this would probably be mature or explicit). <em>Yup, did this; it's the next work in the series - "Breathless."</em></p><p>3) Marty's extended family (including George's parents) finding out what happened.</p><p>4) Marty going back to school, and his classmates' or teachers' reactions. <em>I'm in the process of writing this.</em></p></blockquote></div></div>
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